No Day But Today
by Sevilla Baens
Summary: A oneshot collection in the life of Mimi Marquez. Pre, During, and Post RENT. AU and not AU, assorted pairings. Rating may change due to later chapters.
1. Sweet Sixteen

**A/N: The first of the many oneshots (I expect) in No Day But Today. All of the oneshots are Mimi-centric, because she's so much fun to write about. Pre-, During-, and Post- RENT. I'll try to update every four days, at the most.**

**Disclaimer: Let me say three words: I DON'T OWN.**

**-:-**

Marianela is three. She is out walking with Mama, when she sees the inside of a dance studio. The dancers were beautiful, no matter how their faces were. All of their motions were graceful and effortless and passionate, and Marianela wanted part of that. She told Mama, who in turn talked to Daddy, who then signed Marianela up for dance lessons.

**-:-**

Marianela is five. She is in kindergarten, and the teacher asks for each kindergartener to draw a picture to his or her family. Marianela draws herself and Mama, and when it is her turn to present her picture to the class, she says, "Daddy lives with me and Mama, but he is never really around. If he is, he doesn't do the things daddies are supposed to do."

**-:-**

Marianela is seven. She lives with Abuela now, because the police sent Mama away. Marianela doesn't understand it all, but she knows that Daddy is dead, Mama had a gun, and there was someone else –a new someone- in the picture. Marianela loves Abuela, though she makes Marianela pray everyday, and made her stop dancing. Abuela believes it is wrong to dance. Marianela believes it is part of her life to dance.

**-:-**

Marianela is sixteen. In fact, yesterday was her sixteenth birthday. But after nine years of living with Abuela, she can't take it anymore. Marianela packs some of her money and clothes in a small duffel bag and leaves Abuela a note.

"_I love you Abuela, but I must go. I have to dance to really live. - Mimi"_


	2. Whatcha in for?

**A/n: I'm sorry if I offend anyone. I have no idea if a nun in a catholic school would send in people for the reasons mentioned below, I'm only guessing. u.u; Enjoy!**

**-x-**

Marianela sat in the main office of St. Jerome's High School. She herself was fifteen years old, and the boy -oh, what a beautiful boy- sitting next to her seemed to be the same age. The silence between them was uncomfortable; the boy looked nervous, and Marianela stared at her perfectly shaped nails until she decided to observe the boy. He was a slight Latino with very long eyelashes. Clear, glittery nail polish adorned his nails, and if she wasn't mistaken, he had pierced ears, only his earrings were missing.

She couldn't stand it. She broke the silence.

"So... what'cha in for?"

He blinked, and pointed at himself. "Me?"

"Yes, you. What'cha in for? These idiots send me in here for the slightest thing."

He replied, "I spoke against Sister Rosa, and said that God made a mistake when he made me a boy."

Marianela seemed mildly surprised at his deed, but she didn't seem bothered by it.

"Sweet."

"What did you do?"

"They caught me makin' out with my boyfriend." She gave a satisfied smirk. "I'm trying to set a record. This is the fourth time in three days that I've been sent down here."

The boy smiled, and introduced himself. "My name is Angelo, called Angel."

Marianela replied, "Legally, I'm called Marianela, but please, call me Mimi."

The door finally opened. The principal stood, and Marianela's mother ushered out, and profusely apologized. "I'm so sorry, she won't be back."

The principal grimly replied, "I would hope not."

"Mari! Let's go. We have a lot to talk about at home, mija."

Mimi gave a wave as she exited the office. "See you, Angel!"


	3. Father and Daughter

**A/N: This is MimiOC-ish.**

**-x-**

Mimi wasn't born a Marquez. Technically, only one person knew that. Not Angel- her ex-husband, Nathan Marquez. Mimi herself was born as Marianela Claudine Garcia.

Today was November ninth. Mimi took the day off, and left Alphabet City by train at seven in the morning. She used the money she had worked for to pay for the ride to Albany. And it was a long ride. Mimi went through a mental checklist of what she had brought, and silently congratulated herself for remembering it all.

Mimi was dressed differently. She wore a plain, cream-colored tunic that had blue embroidering with dark jeans, complete with boots, a large leather belt, and a light jacket. Her wild, long hair was tied back, and her make up was gone. It was a lot more formal that what she'd normally wear.

The train stopped at Albany, and it was already dusk. She walked from the train station to the graveyard, where he was waiting. They were waiting.

The graveyard was serene. The leaves rustled quietly on the ground with the November breeze, and a sense of peace overwhelmed her. Mimi walked in silence to their spot, and crouched down when she got there.

Two graves. Father and daughter.

_Nathan Ortega Marquez  
1966-1987_

_Lysandra Eileen Marquez  
1986-1987_

"Hey there," she whispered to her daughter. "I've missed you, sweetie. I haven't forgotten you in these three years. I'd visit more often if I could, but I can't. So once a year it is. I love you, remember that."

Moving onto her late husband's grave, she spoke to him. "I've moved on. I'm even engaged. But I haven't forgotten. When I'm ready –when he's ready to know- I'll bring him here with me. His name is Roger, and he's been good to me. I never thought I'd see the day that I'd smile with another guy, never thought I'd light a candle, unafraid."

"A little piece of me died with you when the fire h-happened. For me, life completely changed afterwards. I'm so sorry –to both of you- but yes, I did start working at the Catscratch Club, and yes, I got hooked on heroin. I should've told you this last year, but I didn't. I'm sorry." Mimi looked up at the two graves, quiet tears streaming down her face.

"But.. I've changed. I've gotten clean, but I will see you up there soon. I have AIDS, and Lysandra sweetie, that's a very bad disease. I look forward to seeing you both at last, but I do want to live a while longer with Roger."

Mimi lit two tea-candles, a pink one for Lysandra, and a white one for Nathan. "I miss you both. I still love you. I always will. And Lysandra, baby, happy third birthday."

And with that, Mimi ate a homemade cupcake with pink frosting and sprinkles in her honor.


	4. Namesake

**A/N: 'S a quick update. But don't get used to it. (-w-)  
R&R!**

**-x-**

Mimi sat on a chair beside Angel's bed in the hospital. Angel was particularly strong today, and Mimi... Mimi was six weeks pregnant- Roger's, of course. Mimi sat Indian-style, a book of names in one hand, a notebook in the other. Mimi let an exasperated sigh escape her lips.

"God! I'm six weeks pregnant, and we haven't really looked at names."

Angel turned and looked at her. "You have time, you're due in several months from now."

Mimi looked up, and said exasperatedly, "But jeeez. We're having twins."

Angel stared for a moment or two. "Seriously? Oh my god, I'm so happy for you!"

She smiled and said, "Thanks. But we don't know if its two girls or two boys or a girl and boy. That's why we have to look at names _now_."

Mimi flipped through the baby names book, and occasionally wrote them down while chatting with Angel about the babies' futures. Then Mimi asked, "Angel, what do you think of Blair? For a girl."

Angel scrunched her face at the thought. "Blair Davis sounds kinda funky. It is a cute name though. Try... Theresa."

"Theresa? Ugh, that was the head nun at St. Jerome's, do you remember?" Angel cringed.

"Ew, I forgot about her. Whoops."

"My babies will not be named Marianela or anything sounding remotely like it."

Angel gave a small laugh, which turned into a coughing fit. When she recovered, she was almost wheezing. "Aha, why not Carmen and Nadia?"

Mimi thought about it, and grinned. "I like Carmen. But Nadia was my next-door-neighbor who I dearly despised. Hm... What do you think of Emily?"

Angel replied, "Emily Davis sounds cute. Go for it."

Mimi breathed a sigh of relief. "Finally! I have the girl's names down, Carmen and Emily. But what about boys'?"

Mimi said in a serious tone to Angel, "Roger wants to name our son -if we have a son- after his idol, Kurt Cobain. I talked him into Kurtis instead. I don't like it."

Angel shuddered. "Kurtis Davis is too... hissy."

"I know."

"Hmmmm... Blaine?"

"Blaine Davis is okay."

"Matthew?"

"He was the half-brother of the guy who gave me HIV."

"Well, erm, whoops. Jonathan?"

"Yes. I love that name."

Mimi left the hospital a couple hours after the names were picked out. It was a fun day, with not much reminder that Angel was ..._dying._ And despite that names were picked out, Mimi wanted to name her children -somehow- after Angel.

**-x-**

Angelo Jonathan and Lovette Carmen Davis were three months old and home from the hospital. Lovette was held by Roger, and Angelo sat on the floor in front of Mimi. Angel had been gone for three months, and strangely enough, the twins were born the day after Angel's passing.

The Davis family was in the Loft, along with Thomas and his jack Russell terrier, Cake; Maureen, Joanne, and their four-year-old adopted daughter Eloise; and Mark and his girlfriend Juliette. They were about to see what Mark had been going on about for a couple weeks- Today 4 U.

Mark started up the documentary, and as the images of Angel- Angel, Angel alive, Angel in love, the not sick Angel- Mimi couldn't stop the tears from spilling out. Looking around, most Bohemians had similar reactions. Roger was looking distraught, Collins was looking sadly broken inside, Maureen was quietly sobbing and being comforted by Joanne. Mark was whispering in Juliette's ear, and Juliette looked like she was a loss for words.

Mimi took Lovette from Roger, and held both babies in her arms. Angelo yawned an adorable baby yawn, and Lovette let out a coo at the site of Angel. Leaning in towards both of them, Mimi murmured, _"This, my darlings, is Angel, your namesakes."_

**-x-**

**Endnote: Angel is Cake's namesake too! Angelcake, get it:)**


	5. Dirty Little Secret

**A/N: This one has a darker mood to it. Review, and I'll love you forever. Seriously.**

Mimi dug frantically through her underwear drawer, until she found what she was looking for. She had reached a medium-sized lidded tin box, decorated with multicolored paint-pens, which clearly stated on top "Mimi-Chica's Box o' Stuff".

It had been decorated by Angel, a Christmas present from two years ago. The box's title was well suited- there was miscellaneous pictures of the Bohemians, a tube of burgundy-colored lipstick, a small bottle of black nail polish, loose coins, and other items. The most noted items being a burnt, silver spoon, a clear baggy of a white substance, and a needle.

Mimi smiled wickedly, grabbed the items from her box, and ran for the bathroom. She was home alone- Roger was at a gig. No one had to know..

With a bit of water, Mimi wet the spoon, and then placed the heroin onto it. She took her lighter out of her pocket- she gave up using candles a long time ago- and watched in morbid fascination as her powered drug became the black, liquid poison that her body craved for so long. Once entering the drug into the needle, she looked up and down her arms and legs for an able vein. Finding one, she shot up, and entered **pure.bliss.**

Mimi giggled, and left the bathroom, taking her drug-preparation items with her. She was walking on clouds, stars floating left and right. She skipped happily to her room, and lovingly placed the items into the box before shoving the box into the drawer, and slamming the drawer shut.

Mimi turned, now facing the mirror and her reflection. No, she didn't really have any remorse for deceiving Roger, who thought she was clean. She smiled a devil's smile, and leaned in close, murmured to her reflection. _"Everyone's got their dirty little secret, and this one's mine." _


	6. Stop Doing That

**A/N: This is a short, short chappy. D: But hey, there's more on the way. This takes place after Mimi went through withdrawal? Wink wink.**

Mimi didn't care that the other Boho's knew that something was up when she left the Life early that day. All she cared about was the small paper bag waiting on her apartment counter.

She was home. She made a beeline for the counter, and ripped open the paper bag. In it was a smaller plastic bag, which was transparent enough for her to see the matter inside of it. Mimi put her nose to the bag and sniffed; a pungent, fragrant smell went through her veins. She sniffed the bag again and again, and would've sniffed it all night long, but for the best, she needed water and something to heat it up with…

Mimi was louder than she realized. Roger knocked tentatively at her apartment door. "Mimi?"

The door was unlocked anyways, and Roger walked in. He looked at Mimi, then at the bag. He looked back and forth at the two, and sighed dejectedly.

"Mimi, you really need to stop doing that with the peppermint tea."

**Endnote: I sometimes behave like that with peppermint tea. Don't give me that look, I like my tea, okay? Lol. **


	7. Praying For a Lap Dance

**A/N: Kind of inspired by But It's Better If You Do. "Praying for a lapdance / and paying in naïveté, oh." But that's kind of unrelated. Kind of, lol.**

"_Ohhh Roger…_" Mimi moaned, and turned to look at her husband. Roger didn't move, which frustrated her. She began to shake his left shoulder, as Roger continued to sleep on his side, turned away from Mimi.

"ROGER DAVIS!" She screeched. Roger awoke with a start this time, and looked blearily at Mimi.

"Wutswronghun." He slurred, not fully over his hangover. Mimi shook his shoulder again, harder, until Roger snapped. "What?!"

Mimi gave wide, innocent eyes and a pout. "Honey-bun, I want some cheerios." Roger buried his face into his pillow. "Nooooo… Mimiii, it's four in the morning… I have work tomorrow… Ask Mark or sumthin'." With that, Roger nodded off and started snoring.

Mimi decided to try the alternative. _"Ask Mark or sumthin'"_, huh. Mimi stomped off noisily to the living room, and wailed. "MARRRRKYYYY!" Collins sat up, confused, and soon enough, both Mark and Roger submerged from their rooms.

"MARRRRRRRRKYYYY! ROGER'S BEING MEAN AND WON'T GET ME CHEERIOS!" Mimi whined. Roger rolled his eyes, and turned to leave.

"ROGERRRR! YOU'RE GOING TO MAKE ME AND THE BABY CRYYY!" Mimi wailed. Mark looked with bemusement from husband to wife. True, Mimi was five months pregnant with Roger's child, he SHOULD know what's best for him and just get the cheerios for her…

"Mark?" Mimi asked tearfully. Mark looked at her. "Would you be a sweetheart and get me a box of cheerios?"

"No."

"But whyyyy?!!!!!"

"Because Roger should be the sweetheart and get them." Mark said flatly, much to Mimi's dismay. Afterall, Mark had a very good point.

She said hopefully, "Would you do it for a lap dance?"

Simultaneously, Collins, Mark, and Roger looked at Mimi. Then looked at each other, and broke down laughing. They were too overcome with laughter to speak, with made Mimi scowl. "STOP LAUGHING AT ME!"

Roger chuckled, calming down. "Okay dollface, I'll get you the cheerios."

Mimi smiled, satisfied, and sat down on the couch, as Roger left the Loft. Mark returned to his room, and Collins went back to sleep in his little corner in the Loft. Outside, Roger was still guffawing about the thought of a big-bellied Mimi trying to give Mark a lap dance.


	8. Matchmaker

**A/N: I'M SORRY. I really am, but school really delayed me. ******** I hope this makes up for it. Disclaimer is at the end of the chapter.**

**XX**

Fourteen-year-old Marianela Garcia walked through the apartment door with a dreamy look clouding her face, and closed the door not as quietly as she should have. One of her sisters submerged from the living room couch, and blocked Marianela's path to the bathroom.

"Mimi! Where have you been?" Her facial expression was strict in a motherly way, her lips pursed and her hands on her hips.

"That's none of your business," Mimi began. She squinted at her sister. "Ramona or Duena?"

"Duena." The twin dragged Mimi into the dark room without another word, closing the door with a small _click_.

Mimi was greeted into the dark room with giggles and _shushs_. Then a lamp was switched on. Twelve-year-old Ramona stood next to the lamp, a timid look in her eyes. Quietly, she said, "Mimi, were you out with that Nelson Vega?"

Mimi nodded. "I was. So what?"

Ten-year-old Leonor spoke up. "Mama doesn't like him one bit."

"But I do! That's what matters."

Duena narrowed her eyes. "Not to her. You better hope she never finds out, or you won't be going out on any night, ever."

Mimi gave a frustrated sigh. "I don't want Mama to pick a suitor though. She'll pick someone just like her, and that'll be… stiff."

Ramona shrugged. "You never know."

"But I do!" Mimi protested. "After she picks a suitor for me, it'll be for you and Duena. Tell me how you'd like that."

"We're too young to make these decisions. And afterall, 'A mother knows best'?" Duena grimaced, and Mimi could tell that she didn't like Mama's control over whom they dated either.

Mimi snorted. "So Mama's the matchmaker in our lives."

Ramona murmured, "She might bring someone wonderful."

"Someone interesting-" Duena chimed in.

"And well off-"

"And important." Duena began to sing softly. "Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match; find me a find, catch me a catch. Matchmaker, matchmaker, look through your book; and make me a perfect match."

Ramona joined in song. "Matchmaker, matchmaker, I'll bring the veil; you bring the groom, slender and pale. Bring me a ring for I'm longing to be, the envy of all I see."

"For Papi, make him a scholar-"

"For Mama, make him rich as a king," Ramona finished.

In unison, they cried, "For me, well, I wouldn't holler, if he were as handsome as anything! Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match, find me a find, catch me a catch. Night after night I'm in the dark all alone, so find me a match of my own."

Mimi cocked an eyebrow at her twin sisters. Dramatically, she said, "Since when are you in a match, Ramona? I thought you had your eye on your books." Duena chuckled at Ramona's rising blush. "And you have your eye on Juan Romero."

Duena's eyed widened, and she smiled. "Well, why not? He has the nicest ass of all the boys at school, why shouldn't I want the best?"

This sent the Garcia sisters into a giggling fit. When they recovered minutes later, Mimi explained, "Because you're a girl from a poor family. So whatever Mama brings, you'll take, right? Of course right!"

Mimi leaped into the closet, and came out with a shawl over her shoulder in an imitation of their mother.

"Duena! Oh Duena, have I got a match for you! He's handsome, he's young! … Alright, he's sixty-two. But he's a nice man, a good catch, true? True. I promise you'll be happy, and even if you're not; there's more to life than that- don't ask me what."

"Ramona, I found him, won't you be a lucky bride! He's handsome, he's tall- that is, from side to side. But he's a nice man, a good catch, right? Right. You heard he has a temper, he'll beat you every night. But only when he's sober- so you're alright!"

The smile faded a bit on Mimi's face as she walked to her bed and sat down. "Did you think you'd get a prince? Well I do the best I can. With no dowry, no money, no family background, be glad you got a man!"

Ramona sat down next to Mimi. "Matchmaker, matchmaker, you know that I'm still very young. Please, take your time."

From across the room on her own bed, Duena sang, "Up to this minute, I misunderstood, that I could get stuck- for good!"

"Dear Mama, see that he's gentle, remember, you were also a bride. It's not that I'm sentimental," sang Duena and Ramona. Mimi joined in.

"It's just that I'm terrified!"

"Matchmaker, matchmaker, plan me no plans; I'm in no rush. Maybe I've learned playing with matches a girl can get burned- so bring me no ring; groom me no groom; find me no find; catch me no catch. Unless he's a matchless match!"

Leonor, who had been silently watching, sat up from her sprawled position on the bed. "José!"

Sure enough, the door handle jiggled, and a boy no older than a toddler tottered into the room. He yawned and plunked himself down on Duena's bed, beside Duena. "_Estoy cansado_…" He muttered, before he fell asleep.

The Garcia girls looked down at him, smiling. Leonor closed the door silently.

**Endnote: Estoy cansado translates to 'I'm tired.' José is about four-five.****I don't own the Matchmaker lyrics from Fiddler on the Roof.**** I hope you enjoyed it, reviews?**

**(I apologize for any grammar mistakes. It's 1:40 AM EST.)**


End file.
